Fall into your Sunlight
by Forever in Your Heart
Summary: Not every love story is a romance. (Sirius and James friendship drabbles)
1. And they say love will save us

Sirius has never been in love. He's loved people and things and places but he's never been _in_ love. At school he was young and adventurous and rebellious and there were so many better things to be doing and who wants a girlfriend anyway? And then he was still young and adventurous and rebellious and there was a goddamn war to fight and he didn't have time for shit like that and he didn't want it anyway because he was going to be a swinging bachelor for life and his friends would all get married with kids and he'd be best man and god father but settling down was nothing he ever wanted no matter how much everyone thought this was a phase he'd grow out of.

Then his life ended on October 31st, 1981 and dead people can't fall in love and even if they could, he's a mass murdering lunatic and no one's exactly interested. And then there's breaking out and running for his life and dedicating all his love to loving a boy that looks so much like James he feels like his heart is swelling and breaking every time he looks at him. And then he's dead in body and his spirit stops being dead when James gives him that stupid ass grin and it doesn't matter that he's never been _in _love because he fucking loves James fucking Potter more than anything else and anyone he ever fell in love with would just be jealous anyway.


	2. A Lighthouse in My Soul

Number 12 Grimmauld Place is not home. It is cold and harsh and loveless and it isn't home.

Hogwarts is not home. For awhile he fancies it might be, because he likes it here, because people here like him and it's an escape from that place that definitely isn't home. But in the end, Hogwarts is a wonderful place, a magical place but it isn't home.

(Close but no cigar)

The Potter home is not home. He thinks it is, thinks it is from the moment he climbs in James' window at 2:44 am having fled that place he always knew wasn't home. He is loved here, he is happy here, he belongs. It smells like apple pie and fireplaces and cologne and James' broomstick polish. He never wants to leave because this is home. Except it isn't.

(You're getting warmer though)

His flat is not home. It's a tiny thing, kind of cramped and nothing to marvel at but its his, his and James' too and he almost fools himself that it's home. He is independant here, no rules, no disappointment. He feels free and happy and reckless. It smells like broomstick polish and fresh air and wet dog and aftershave. It smells like him. It smells like James. It isn't home.

(But you'll notice the ones that almost are all have one thing in common)

No place has ever been home.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't have one.

He has a home and it moves around a lot and sometimes they share a house and sometimes not. His home smells like broomstick polish and aftershave and fresh air. His home makes him feel brave and happy and safe. His home is everything he's spent his life searching for. Home means being loved, means being safe, means never being alone.

Home is a tall boy with messy hair and glasses. Glasses he breaks at least once a week (because if he doesn't break them at least once a week, then he isn't him). A boy who always sleeps with the windows wide, wide open even in a blizzard or a monsoon (it's at times like these that sharing a house isn't exactly ideal). A boy who loves flying and winter and custard, a boy who gave Sirius everything. Home is his best friend.

Sirius Black's home is James Potter and it's as simple as that.


	3. Palmistry of the Heart

James has always been the more emotional of the two or at least the one most willing to show those emotions. Sirius is tough and manly and guys don't cry and tell each other they love one another. And sometimes when he looks at James and wants to say _I fucking love you thank you thank you you're the best fucking thing that ever happened to me_ but he doesn't because he isn't supposed to but James just knows anyway because he is a fucking telepathic mind reader or something and fuck he can read Sirius like a book.


	4. Dust and Dreams

If Sirius Black were to look in the Mirror of Erised at the age of ten, he'd've seen his family. Not his family as they were, but as he wished them to be. Smiling and happy, no scowls or distance or anger at all. Normal and carefree, without prejudice or hatred or beatings or lectures. Without disappointment and words that made him cringe and ways that made his stomach turn in discomfort. A family that loved him, each other, a family he belonged to.

All he wanted, in the deepest darkest parts of his heart, was a family, in the truest sense of the word.

_If James Potter were to look in the Mirror of Erised at the age of ten, he'd've seen himself. Not himself as he was, but as he wished he could be. Older and handsome, Quidditch World cup triumphantly in hand, cheering fans on all sides. Decked out in his uniform, the star chaser of England's National Team. His dream would be shallow and selfish but he is a ten year old boy and his dreams shouldn't need to be anything other than fanciful flights, because innocent children shouldn't need to wish for deeper things._

_All he wanted, in the deepest darkest parts of his heart, was what most children dreamed of, something grand and exciting._

If Sirius Black were to look in the Mirror of Erised the night before his death, he'd see James Potter. Not James Potter as he was, but as he wished he could be. A James that was alive, a James that was happy and grinning, with an arm so casually thrown across Sirius' shoulders. He wouldn't be surprised to see James but he'd wonder if he should be ashamed, ashamed just to wish for James when there were so many things he could wish for, an end to the war, peace and happiness for his friends, for Harry.

All he wants in every fiber of his being is for James Potter to be alive. That's all.

_If James Potter were to look in the Mirror of Erised the night before he died, he'd see his family. Not his family as they were, but as he hoped they would be. He would see them alive and happy. And not just Lily and Harry, but Sirius and Remus and Peter. All of them, together, war over and living their lives. He'd see it and promise to make it all real._

_All he wanted in every fiber of his being was for everyone to be okay. That was all._

(Sirius Black never looks in the Mirror of Erised, and maybe that's for the best. Imagining hurt enough, actually seeing what he could never have might have been one blow too many)

_(James Potter never looks in the Mirror of Erised and maybe that's okay. He doesn't need a mirror to show him what he wants most, he's always known that. _

_It's the getting that's the problem) _


	5. Le Parfum de l'Amour Part 1

_Le Parfum de l'Amour_

_Part 1- A Heart with Seven Sides_

Sixth year potions begins with an explanation of Amortentia and how each and every one of them will smell different things, due to individual tastes. There's a cauldron full on Slughorn's desk, wafting through the room and James and Sirius share a grin.

They make a game of it, decide they'll see if they can guess what the other smells and Sirius is confident, knows he knows James better than he knows himself.

Of course, that goes both ways.

_First_

James narrows his eyes, thinks for just a second.

"Fall," he says confidently and Sirius nods. Most people would probably be confused because what does "Fall" mean? How can a season have a scent? And maybe for most people it doesn't, but for Sirius it always has. It's apple pie and chimney smoke, the beginnings of frost on the air. It's pumpkin and cinnamon and maybe a little muddy too. Dry leaves and wet leaves, the warm wool sweater Mrs Potter knit him, a hint of spices in the wind.

But it's not just a smell, it's a feeling, living deep in his bones.

It's the thrill of their annual Halloween prank, their biggest and best of the year. It's the excitement of the start of the Quidditch season, because Sirius is nothing if not Gryffindor's biggest fan. It's the happiness, the safety, the feeling of belonging that comes with the beginning of school, with returning to Hogwarts. It's the warmth and the love of the friends and family he's made, celebrating his birthday by his side.

It's the end of the old and the hope for tomorrow, that maybe, someday, things will be better.

_Second_

He smells leather and burning rubber, tastes the wind, thinks of motorcycles and leather jackets. It means freedom and rebellion, means escape and being himself and most people wouldn't understand, thinks it's to be cool or reckless or flashy.

James guesses it with a grin and even though they laugh together, Sirius can see it in his eyes.

James understands, but then, he always has.

_Third_

Then comes the Great Hall at Halloween, mouth watering and delicious. Pudding and candy and chocolate and pastries and more, leaves Sirius with a craving growing in his stomach.

James doesn't hesitate to suggest it, has been right on the money so far. Sirius nods, still thinking of sweets and what he doesn't quite realize, is there's more to it than that. He loves it because of the taste, sure, but deep down it represents _youth_, the chance to be young and carefree, no worries, no stress, no broken family or world at war.

They're just kids, just happy and alive and having a good time.

_Fourth_

"Mum's apple pie," James says, eyes a little wistful and Sirius nods eagerly.

This one is easy, no question because Mrs Potter's apple pie is his favourite thing in the world, is the one food he'd live off of for the rest of his life if he had to.

(and maybe it's family and love and home)

_Fifth_

There's the Potter home, the scent of his favourite apple pie, the reek of James' broomstick polish, the warmth of fireplaces, the sweetness of floral perfume, the strength of cologne.

That apple pie smell always flutters from the kitchen, snuck into every room and never failed to make his mouth water.

That comforting fireplace scent's always floating around, which makes sense in the winter, when each room has a blazing fire, the kind that makes you feel safe and cozy. But even in July, when a fire hasn't burned in the house for months, that smell lingers and it always makes Sirius feel warm in the very best of ways.

Leaking from every nook and cranny is James' broomstick polish, something he makes _obsessive_ use of. His bedroom and the shed out back practically have it oozing from the walls, but the rest of the house carries faint traces and James himself has the scent stuck beneath his skin, lingering in his every breath.

There's always the pleasant tingle of floral perfume in the air belonging to Mrs Potter and smelling it always means love and care and affection.

Mr Potter's cologne is always much stronger, the kind of stuff that gets stuck in your nose with no way out. And sometimes Sirius complains but he never means it, because that unnatural cologne means love and safety and pride.

James gets this one with ease, but of course he did.

Sirius never doubted he would.

_Sixth_

The weirdest one, the one that catches even Sirius off guard, is the barely there smell of vanilla shampoo.

He thinks it's a mistake at first, thinks he's just smelling someone nearby but the smell vanishes when he pulls away, only seems present when he takes a big whiff of the potion.

He doesn't know what this means, if it means he's _already_ attracted to someone who uses vanilla shampoo or if it just means that he finds vanilla shampoo a particularly attractive scent.

It doesn't really matter, he has _zero _interest in finding himself a girlfriend, that's more James the Romantic's scene.

Still, he can't help but wonder.

James doesn't get it, but then, neither does Sirius.

(there still on the same page, but then, they always are)

_Last _

_(but never least)_

Neither of them mentions the final scent, the last thing Sirius smells, the one that lingers long after class is over.

It's broomstick polish, nasty as all hell after shave, open windows, that weird chemical glasses cleaner.

It's James, it's friendship and home, family, trust and faith.

It's loyalty, belonging, affection, it's happiness and courage.

It means love and someone to lean on, it means safety and laughter.

It's James and it means everything.


	6. Children of War

"So," Sirius begins, cigarette smoke curling towards the sky.

"So," James echoes, eyes focused on distant stars.

There's something like ice, cold and heavy, taking residence in Sirius' stomach, slowly spreading out through his veins, filling his every pore. He keeps seeing James, not the James beside him, but the one from the last raid, ash in his hair, Death Eater curses lighting his face. He sees that James leaping sideways, shoulder pushing hard into Sirius' chest, shoving him out of the way of a streak of silver light. He sees James hit in the gut, sees him bend over backwards and sag like a rag doll. He sees James lying in the McKinnons' basement (their makeshift hospital), face gray and eyes closed.

"I'm not dead Sirius," James murmurs, pulls Sirius out of real life nightmares. Sirius startles and looks at James again, the present, perfectly okay James, outlined by moonlight.

"You could've been," he retorts, too harsh but there's still that moment when James is motionless in his arms and Sirius thinks his world has ended. He can feel it beating against his ribs, carved deep into his bones.

"We're in a war," James points out, his patient tone digging under Sirius' skin. He still isn't okay, hasn't gotten over what happened and he lashes out like always, except this time, for the first time, he lashes out at James.

"Yeah and you just had to be the hero, didn't you?" Sirius snaps, voice ugly and he hates himself but can't stop, because he's still trapped in that moment, the one where he thinks James has died.

James sighs heavily and Sirius bristles, wants to strike out at him, wants to hold him close.

"Sirius..." he starts but Sirius is a runaway train, couldn't stop even if he wanted to.

"It's always about you, isn't it? Always have to be the fucking star, always saving the day." Sirius has never spoken to James like this, never been so bitter and furious. But then, he's never quite felt like this either, like there was poison pulsing through his veins instead of blood.

James jumps neatly off the short wall he'd been sitting on, turns towards Sirius and his eyes catch the moonlight, flash big and bright.

"Sirius, listen. You can pitch as much of a fit as you want, but I'm always going to risk my life for yours." Sirius wants to interrupt, to protest but James takes firm hold of his shoulders, looks straight in his eyes. "You're my best mate and I'd die for you in a heartbeat. That's never gunna change." His voice is firm, sincere and Sirius feels a thousand emotions crash around inside him.

"But...but what if..." he can't finish the thought but James grins, gives his shoulders a squeeze.

"I'm not worried. I've got your back and I know you've got mine. Right?"

Sirius nods, feels the venom start to recede from his veins.

_I'll keep you safe, I promise_

"Right," he agrees, voice a bit wobbly.

"See? You, me, Moony and Wormtail, we're gunna be okay. I trust you guys, more than anything and I know we're going to make it out of this okay. There's a whole new world waiting on the other side of this war and I can't wait for us to see it. Together."

Sirius takes a deep breath, lets the warmth of James' smile burn him back to life.

_We're gunna make it_

There's always been something in James' steady presence, something that makes Sirius believe in the impossible.

And as they stand side by side, shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the sky, Sirius _believes_.

_Together_


	7. Le Parfum de l'Amour Part 2

Le Parfum de l'Amour Part 2

_A Love of Kings and Thieves_

James breathes in deeply, the scent of all his favourite things blending together and making him feel a happy sort of warmth flooding through his veins. It's Sirius' turn to guess what James smells from the Amortentia and James is sure he'll get them all, because they're basically two halves of the same whole, know each other inside and out.

He's right.

_First_

"Summer," Sirius pronounces, with all the confidence in the world and James grins. Sirius is right, of course he is, and summer smells like swimming in the pond, like staying up late and chasing every adventure. James couldn't describe the smell if he tried, but he knows, the second he gets a whiff of the Amortentia, that it's summer, his favourite season of them all.

James has always been more a summer boy, long nights running wild, endless blue skies, warm wind in his hair. There's a freedom in summer James can't put into words, a sense of endless possibility, reckless courage and friendship, his three very best mates. He thrives in sunshine and he doesn't know why his heart beats louder for summer, but it does, always has.

Sirius knows all of this of course, knows James better than he knows himself.

_Second_

Sirius rolls his eyes, smirking as he guesses the next one and James won't be ashamed.

It's custard and there's no deep meaning here, just that custard is amazing, the scent already making his mouth water.

Custard is simply delicious, the very best food of them all.

(or maybe it's his mother deciding to teach him how to make it when he's young, forcing him into the kitchen for weeks on end until he gets it right. maybe it's all that time spent with her, laughing, talking, succeeding)

(maybe it's his father coming to help, rolling up his sleeves and helping James make an absolute mess. maybe it's his father smiling in pride, gushing about how delicious it is, even when it wasn't. maybe it's that praise, that easy happiness)

(maybe it's not those moments specifically, maybe custard is just a physical call back to the love he has for his parents, not tied anymore to a specific memory, but coming to represent all of it, the years and years of smiles and love and joy, all stirred into one lovely dessert)

(except there's no maybe)

(it is)

_Third_

The third is easy, a given, totally predictable.

"Quidditch," Sirius says without a moment to think about it, because _of course_.

Quidditch, the smell of broomstick polish, of mud, of fresh air and leather balls. The smell of sweat and a metal trophy, shined as bright as the sun.

Quidditch is the smell of victory, of pride. It's the smell of hard work, of success, of exhilaration. It's triumph and elation, it's the support of every Gryffindor cheering his name, the weightless bliss of flying.

Quidditch is James in his element, confident and determined. It is James without worry, without concern, James focused and resolute. It's a James that belongs to something bigger, an entire House relying on him, a team that looks to him for guidance, a head of House hedging all her bets on him.

Quidditch is a James that is brave, inspiring, fighting for others, a James that will never, ever give up.

Quidditch is James Potter at his very best.

_Fourth_

James _is_ a little embarrassed by the fourth smell, wishes Sirius wouldn't say it even though he knows he will.

"Evans," Sirius scoffs and James hopes she doesn't hear from her spot in front of them. It's stupid, isn't it, to smell a girl who so publicly rejected him last year? And yet, still, James can smell her, that soft floral scent and he doesn't know if it's perfume, soap or maybe shampoo, just that it's _Lily_.

Lily who is brilliant, fierce, compassionate and not always pleasant. Lily who is forgiving, strong, incredible with her wand and who may never fancy him back (and that's strangely okay). Lily who is occasionally petty and so very stubborn. Lily Evans, beautiful, determined, courageous and unstoppable.

He is sixteen and would never say he loved her, doesn't even realize he does, but she has taken over his heart, written her name all over it and she'll never leave, never move out of the spot she's claimed inside of him.

James is a boy growing up, growing out of stupid behaviour and growing into a better man. He is a boy changing, not entirely, not completely, but enough.

Some things won't change though, some things he won't grow out of. He doesn't know it yet, but Lily Evans is one of those things, something, _someone_, he'll only love more as the years go by.

He smells it now and thinks it's a stupid fancy, something he probably should have moved past when she said no in front of most of the school. Sirius would agree with him if he said it out loud, would say those very words, but here's something they both don't know.

You don't smell silly crushes or passing fancies in Amortentia.

You smell your heart.

_Last_

_(but never least)_

No one says it, but maybe he also smells a little bit of wet dog mixed with Sirius' cologne. Maybe he smells his best friend, his brother, the other half of himself.

But then, maybe they don't need to say it, because it's a given.

Lily may be the love of his life but Sirius is just as much his soul mate, just as much a part of his heart. They're best friends, they're brothers and no one needs to say it, the world already knows it.


End file.
